


Not Alone

by The_Queer_Dungeoneer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28647702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Queer_Dungeoneer/pseuds/The_Queer_Dungeoneer
Summary: The reader uses she/her pronouns and is a sophomore in college. She goes to a small liberal arts school in London after transferring from America. She doesn't have any friends in this foreign country. Luckily, her love for reading and food leads her to the best friend she'll ever make, and he'll lead her to the greatest love she'll ever find.
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Reader, Aziraphale (Good Omens)/Reader, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) & Reader, Crowley (Good Omens)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. An Unlikely Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This one is gonna be a slow burn folx. But any story worth reading doesn’t give away all of the good stuff right off the top! Right?
> 
> Seriously though, this is my first fanfiction and I really hope you enjoy it. It has made me really happy to work on. I have several more chapters in the works. I don’t know how often I’ll be updating it yet, but I hope this makes you happy!

Chapter 1 – An Unlikely Friend

  
September, 2018

  
Aziraphale’s bookshop had become quite the haven for me during my undergraduate studies. It was quaint and always quiet; due mostly to the fact that he scared off any customer that attempted to enter. He even tried to push me out the door until he realized I only needed a quiet space to read and had no money on hand to buy anything -- you know, college being prohibitively expensive and all.  
I had found his shop by happenstance, but it seemed to be fate as there was no coffeeshop or café near my small apartment that was quiet enough to work in. During my first few visits I just browsed the shelves, picked up a novel, read it for a few hours on his window seat and then put it back exactly where he had filed it before. In the beginning, I was incredibly worried that entering, but not buying anything would irritate him. However, I soon realized that he would prefer it if all his customers were that way. By my third visit, he introduced himself.

“Hello Miss. Ummm…”

“Y/N” I offered, “My name is Y/N, but you’re welcome to call me Y/N/N if that’s too long,” I said, quite sheepishly. My name being as long as it is would often warrant questionable looks and I was having enough trouble making friends as it was.

“If your mother named you Y/N, then that is what I shall call you. It really is quite beautiful.” His eyes offered the most welcoming look I had received since moving to London. It was like a breath of fresh air. “My name is Aziraphale, it’s lovely to finally get acquainted.”

“Likewise, Aziraphale. Your name is beautiful as well.”

“Oh heavens, you are quite sweet,” he responded with a blush. “Well, seeing as we have now been properly introduced, might I interest you in a cup of tea? I’d love to know more about you as you seem to be a voracious reader like myself.”  
I accepted almost immediately. It had been ages since I’d made true, friendly conversation with someone else. We talked about our favorite authors and genres to start. He seemed to find my love of The Divine Comedy amusing, which was an opinion I had never come across.

“I just think that Heaven and Hell would be much different.”

“Well tell me what you imagined!”

“Oh no, it’s silly, maybe another time.” He responded, brushing off my request.  
We chatted like this for hours. I came to learn that some of his favorite things to read are ancient cookbooks. I never thought it could be that entertaining, but he explained to me that he enjoyed adapting the recipes and trying them out with modern twists. Our conversation then shifted to food. We gushed about the different restaurants we had been to and he gave me several recommendations to try. Before we knew it, it was ten o’clock.

“Oh my gosh,” I said, “I am so sorry I’ve stayed in your hair this long. I should let you close up shop.”

“Well seeing as I locked up three hours ago when I got up to start another kettle of hot water, I’d say you haven’t been in my hair at all.”

“Oh – I hadn’t noticed.” I responded with surprise. I don’t think I had been this taken with a conversation in months, maybe years. “Well, I should still be getting home. I have an essay to submit. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks now, and I need to finish it up and turn it in to my professor’s office in the morning.”

“An essay?” he inquired with excitement, “Whatever is it about?”

“Oh! Well if you’re truly interested, I’m writing about the practical applications for creative arts as a form of healthcare. I know it seems a bit out there, I just think it’s important. But everyone has their own opinions, so I understand if you think it’s silly…”

“My dear, that doesn’t sound silly at all!” He exclaimed. His enthusiasm filled me with a quiet relief. Maybe I had finally found a friend in this new city. “I would simply love to read it – if you’d let me of course! It sounds fascinating.”  
I thought about this a moment. I couldn’t decide if he was just encouraging me out of kindness or if he actually wanted to read my work. I scanned his face, but his blue eyes met mine with nothing but sincerity.

“Alright,” I conceded, “I’ll bring it in once I get it back from my professor.”

“Splendid! I cannot wait!”

His innocent and unmetered excitement filled me with joy and, for some odd reason, hope. He seemed a rare breed of person in the current social climate. It was not often someone was so open about themselves and truly cared about the interests of others, especially those they had only seen and handful of times and met only hours earlier.  
Feeling content with how the evening had played out, I wished him well and headed for the shop door. However, just as the bell rang signaling that it was open, he called back out to me.

“Y/N, my dear, are you going to walk home by yourself? It’s dreadfully dark outside. Please, allow me to escort you.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to impose on your evening any further. It’s just a few blocks. I have walked back at this hour loads of times. You really don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“No, no, I am a gentleman, and a gentleman would never let a lady put herself in danger.”

His comment was endearingly archaic. I carried pepper spray on my keychain and felt that I was much more likely to win a fight than this portly bookstore owner. I couldn’t deny, however, that not having to walk home on constant alert sounded nice.

“Well, I suppose it would be rude of me to deny your code of ethics then, wouldn’t it, sir?”

“Quite, mademoiselle,” he smiled warmly, “May I?” He asked, offering me his arm.

I took it quickly, and we walked together back to my tiny apartment continuing our lovely conversation. I normally wouldn’t allow someone who was virtually a stranger to know where I lived, especially considering I lived alone, but something in my heart told me I could trust him. It was the same feeling that told me I would be visiting the bookshop much more often.


	2. Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good test grades? Indian Food? Uncomfy interactions with Gabriel? What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand I’m back! I have survived my first round of midterms! Yay! Thank you all for the love on chapter one. It really made my week.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely editor @aka-ellie ❤️

_ October, 2018 _

“Aziraphale!” I called, bouncing into the shop. “Aziraphale, I have the most wonderful news!”

It had now been six weeks since we’d first introduced ourselves. I came to the shop almost daily to work on homework and read his unique collection of books. I learned all about how his childhood dream was to open a bookstore. He explained that he had loved history as a boy, so much so that he would write himself into the frontline of historical events. He recounted these fictions with such detail I nearly believed him. It was lovely to see his eyes alight with passion. Knowing he had achieved his dreams made me feel so optimistic. I told him of my dreams to become a research psychologist. I explained how I wanted to research the beneficial effects of the humanities on the brain and use that as a jumping off point for starting insurance-supported arts therapy centers. He didn’t call me a dreamer, he called me a visionary.

“Aziraphale?” I questioned. He was known to keep the shop open at odd hours, but the door being unlocked meant he was almost certainly there. I didn’t see him at the front desk, and after peeking around a few rows of shelves, I heard voices coming from the back room. I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was in a meeting, so I quietly sat on the window seat and started reading my textbook.

The back door creaked open several minutes later and a very tall and official looking man with strikingly purple eyes walked out. Aziraphale was following closely behind him. The stranger looked quite stern but put on a smile when he saw me sitting in the shop.

“I am so sorry Aziraphale,” he said with pseudo-animatronic tone, “I didn’t realize I was keeping you from your customers.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sir.” I assured him, “I am just visiting as an, um, an acquaintance. I only had a question for Aziraphale.”

“Ah. An _acquaintance_? I didn’t know you kept company other than these dusty books Aziraphale.” The calm and clinical man raised an eyebrow. “Well, any _acquaintance_ of Aziraphale’s is an acquaintance of mine!” He said, extending his hand to me. “I’m Gabriel, and you are?”

“Y/N. It’s um – it’s nice to meet you Mr. Gabriel.” I said, attempting to return the handshake.

Gabriel took my hand and kissed my knuckles swiftly. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be cordial, but it came across as domineering and uncomfortable. I played it off with a small, uncomfortable giggle.

“Lovely to meet you Y/N. Now, please excuse me, I have a meeting all the way uptown that I simply must get to.” And with that, he marched out the door not unlike a wind-up tin soldier. Something about him made me feel uneasy way down in the pit of my stomach.

“Y/N, dear, I am so sorry about that. Gabriel is – um… well – he’s a colleague of mine. We had to confer about some urgent business.” Aziraphale said, stumbling over his words. He seemed unusually frazzled for a normally calm and collected ball of cheer. 

“Are you alright Aziraphale? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh no, ghosts aren’t real. Anyways, everything is tickety-boo! Especially now that you’re here. Please, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I didn’t feel I’d known him long enough to pry. My motivations for coming suddenly felt very self-centered seeing the stress that was attempting to conceal itself in his forehead wrinkles.

“Well, I just got that essay back, and I wanted to share it with you. But it seems like it’s a bad time, so why don’t I come back later?”

“Nonsense, my dear! I am just fine. Truly, nothing more than a long day of work. I have so been looking forward to reading your essay.” His demeanor seemed to be easing, so I handed over the manila folder containing my last few weeks of sleep and effort.

“I was quite excited about my professor’s thoughts, so I actually brought you the graded copy. It seems silly now. Don’t pay any mind to it. You really don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.” I was rambling out of embarrassment at this point, thinking I should’ve just put the essay in my desk drawer and moved on. He probably didn’t care that much, right?

“Y/N, dear, it’s alright to be proud of your accomplishments. Now, let’s see.” He opened the folder revealing the packet of papers with a large red pen marking that said ‘95/100 – innovative.’ “Well that is an A+ if I’ve ever seen one! Amazing, dear! I am so proud of you!”

Hearing that made my heart smile. He was proud of me. This lovely and sincere man was proud of the work I had done. It was reassuring and helped me feel much less awkward about the ordeal. Aziraphale had an aura that instantly made you feel comfortable.

He poured us two mugs of tea and invited me into the back room where there was a little couch. I didn’t think he’d want to read it while I was in the room, I was a bit anxious thinking about it to be honest, but he seemed insistent that I stay, so I settled into the side of the couch and worked on annotating a book for a case study I was researching. It took him about twenty minutes to read through all of what I had written – every word, footnote and figure.

“Wow.” He breathed, closing the folder and looking at me. His blue eyes seemed contemplative. I couldn’t decipher what he was thinking and started panicking. Surely he was questioning my intellect “That was phenomenal Y/N. Truly, if I were part of the government and I had read that, I would put your plan into action effective immediately. My goodness, you were so creative and convincing. It was so emotionally charged yet logical. Oh - my dear, you are brilliant!”

I was floored by his praise. My cheeks felt warm and I couldn’t stop smiling. This man that I admired so dearly thought so highly of my work. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much his opinion mattered, but it did. It mattered a lot.

“Please let me take you out to dinner to celebrate this accomplishment! My treat.”

“Oh, that is so kind of you Aziraphale, but I am sure you have plenty of work to do and I really don’t want to trouble you.”

“You always worry about causing me trouble. I promise you, it is no trouble for me to take my friend out and celebrate her merits. I insist. We will go anywhere you like!”

_Friend_

“Oh dear, Y/N, if I did something that hurt your feelings, I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you into dinner. We certainly don’t ha-“

“Aziraphale, I’m alright.” I cut him off. “I am just happy is all. It’s nice to have a friend. I’ve been feeling rather lonesome since coming to school here. I didn’t realize just how much until this moment. You didn’t do anything wrong, in fact, you seem to be the only thing that has gone right since I moved. _Thank you._ ” I tried to pour all my gratitude into those last two words. After the apparently stressful day he’d had he deserved to hear them.

“My heavens,” he sighed, “I didn’t realize. Judging by your charm and intelligence, I would have bet you were extremely popular. I am honored to be your friend. Please know that if you’re ever feeling lonely you can visit any time. I mean that.”

I knew he meant it. I could tell deep down in my heart. The same way I could tell before that I could trust him.

“Thank you, Aziraphale. You are an angel.”

“I don’t know about that. Anyhow, let’s get you some dinner! I know I am feeling absolutely peckish.”


	3. Bunny Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their dinner, Aizaphale and the reader retire back to her apartment for some really good bonding! There is talk of a family friend passing away - just a heads up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three is here, my loves! Yay for relationship development! Honetly, I think being close friends with Aziraphale would be such a wonderful experience. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to my lovely editor @aka-ellie ❤️

_ October, 2018 _

We went to a small Indian restaurant about half a mile from the shop. The food was impeccable, but it was shoved into second place by the lovely conversation.

This time he seemed much more interest in my upbringing. I told him about how I’d grown up with my grandparents, and how I still called my grams every day. I talked about how I had grown up in art and theatre classes, which had helped me with my anxiety and depression, I also explained that this was my motivation for working towards arts as a form of healthcare. I had experienced the benefits upfront, and they could be so helpful for so many people. I left a lot of the more unsavory details of my childhood out because it didn’t seem like the time to bear my uglier scars.

He asked me all kinds of questions about growing up in Seattle. He wanted to know all about if the seafood there was as good as he’d heard (I hate seafood, so I was the wrong person to ask about that) and I told him that I thought it might be. We talked about the interesting bookshops around the city, and I told him that his was far better than any of them, which made him grin like a schoolboy. 

I was incredibly content wandering arm in arm with Aziraphale. I hadn’t had a meal that delicious or filling in weeks. I’d been subsisting off peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and instant noodles because of my limited budget. It was great to not feel hungry, and even better to not feel lonely. I was smiling despite myself, and there are few memories I treasure more than that one.

He walked me to my apartment and cordially held the door open once I’d buzzed myself in. His gentlemanly demeanor never seemed patronizing, always completely genuine. It was sweet.

“Would you like to come in? I have coffee and tea.”

“Oh goodness dear, it’s rather late. I do not want to take up any more of your evening,” he responded. We seemed to be caught in a dance of wanting to spend time together, but not impose. The best part was, it wasn’t just me.

“Really, Aziraphale, it’s no trouble. I stay up this late all the time. If it sweetens the deal at all, I can dig out some hot cocoa? Oh! You can even meet my bunny!”

“Well you didn’t tell me that you have a rabbit! That is all the convincing I need.” He giggled happily and followed me up the stairs.

My living space was quaint, and by quaint, I mean incredibly small. But it was all the space I could possibly need. After all, it was just me and Penelope, and I wasn’t entertaining much.

Penelope had a small hutch with a litter box and a bed, but I never closed the door. She hopped about the apartment most all day and night. I did lock her up when I was sleeping though. I had this nagging fear that she would hop into bed with me and I’d suffocate her by accident. Dark, I know, but real. Also, locking her up at night and covering the cage with a blanket meant she slept when I did, so we were on relatively the same schedule. It made life easier. Penelope had been my best friend for two years. She was a graduation present from my grandfather when I finished high school. I had hidden her in my dorm room secretly during freshman year, and against my families wishes, I had paid the extra fees to have her travel with me all the way to London. She was more companion than pet. I read her all my papers and textbooks, I let her pee on the papers I’d gotten bad grades on, she cuddled with me on bad days and hopped around my feet in celebratory dance parties. We were inseparable.

I smiled unlocking my little red front door. The number fourteen was crooked. I should have told the landlord by now, but it added character, so I didn’t really mind.

“Where’s my little fluffernutter?” I called in a sing-song voice. I was answered with the skittering sound of bunny feet and Penelope made her way into the kitchen and slid across the tiles to greet me. She jumped straight into my arms and nuzzled against my chest. She often acted more like a dog than a rabbit. I wasn’t sure who was more co-dependent, but I didn’t care. It was nice to be needed. “Oh, hello darling! Mama missed you so much!”

“My goodness! That is the most affectionate rabbit I have ever seen! What is her name?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Aziraphale, this is Penelope,” I said hiking the small furball into the crook of my elbow, “And Penelope, this is Aziraphale,” I finished, grabbing a hold of her paw and extending it in a mock-introductory handshake.”

Aziraphale went right along with my dorky antics and shook Penelope’s paw. “It is lovely to meet such a refined lady as yourself Miss Penelope, I marvel at the pleasure.”

I couldn’t hold back my giggles. I knew I could laugh freely with Aziraphale. However, when I inadvertently snorted I stopped short and my cheeks flushed red.

“Oh well that was simply adorable,” Aziraphale giggled. “Don’t go getting all embarrassed, I have heard centuries worth of embarrassing laughs, and yours doesn’t even come close.”

I exhaled and continued my giggling fit. As I made my way into the apartment kitchen. I slid my shoes off and left them to the right of the door before padding across the outdated linoleum tiles the grab a few mugs. My kitchen, while small, was lovely. The cabinets were all a shade of robin’s egg blue and the countertops were a subtle white tile. It was the first thing when you saw when you entered and added a calming air to the room. It wrapped around into a small bar with matching blue bar stools to the left, and the rest of my studio sprawled out behind that. There was a large window facing north, which my couch (also my bed) sat underneath on the far wall. I had photos and cards from my family and friends back home as well as art pieces I’d collected over the years hung up all around. The coffee table perched in front of my couch/bed - we’ll call it my bouch - was covered in textbooks, papers and highlighters as well as a few empty bowls and a smattering of silverware. Across from the bouch was my television on top of my bookshelf. I didn’t watch much TV, but I had a Gamecube that I liked to play occasionally, to relax. At the far end of the apartment from the kitchen was my small bathroom. It was decorated all in lime green. Definitely a product of the 70’s when these apartments went up. Penelope’s hutch sat on the wall next to the bathroom door. It was just a basic black wire hutch with a hidey hole, a water bottle, food bowl and wood shavings.

I only had enough serving ware for two people, thankfully I had done most of the dishes. Usually, two-people’s-worth just meant I could eat another bowl of soup before I actually had to consider pulling out a sponge. I busied myself with tea while Aziraphale settled down on one of the barstools watching the odd dance I did to prepare everything with one arm occupied by my small rodent best friend. When she got squirmy, I set her down.

“I know it’s past your bedtime you little monster. Give me one second.” I huffed before walking over and grabbing her small blanket from the ground next to the couch. I laid it out in the hutch under the hidey hole cover where she liked to sleep and gestured at it with playful annoyance. “How’s that, your majesty?”

Apparently, it was fine because she hopped right in. I gently latched the door and flipped down the quilt that was folded on top of the hutch. She’d likely be asleep in minutes. She, like her human, loved to sleep. Naps were only second to food.

The kettle started to whistle, causing me to whip around and slide back to the kitchen. I had become an expert in the Olympic sport of sock-on-tile skating in my time, though I did smack my hip on the oven handle during my graceful finish.

“Oh, dear! Are you alright?” Aziraphale winced.

“Yeah, yeah! I am a bit of a klutz. I do stupid stuff all the time. Now! Your tea, sir. Be careful, it’s hot.” I smiled, placing a mug on the counter.

“Oh, thank you! Your apartment is beautiful. You’ve made it very welcoming. There is a lot of love in here.”

I settled down on the barstool next to him, and he started asking about all of my pictures. I pulled one of my favorites off the wall, a glossy 5x7 of myself and my grams in matching skeleton costumes. I was seven, and we went trick-or-treating around the police station where my grandpa worked. One of the officers picked me up shouting “Who left this skeleton out on the floor?! All human remains should be sealed in the evidence locker!” He tossed me over his shoulder and carried me all around the precinct. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. He slapped an evidence sticker across my forehead and gave me a full-sized Twix bar.

Officer Peterson was a good man. He had passed away in the line of duty two years later. I was too young to really understand that. I remembered though, my grandpa had sat me down and talked to me for a long time about death and how it worked. He told me it wasn’t something bad. A lot of time it meant people weren’t hurting or scared anymore. Grandpa never backed away from the hard conversations. I was lucky for that.

This is how the evening went on. Each picture had so many memories and smiles attached. Aziraphale never ran out of questions to ask. He was so curious, as though domestic life was the most interesting thing in the world. I don’t know when three o’clock rolled around, but that didn’t stop anything. Neither of us considered wrapping things up until well after the sun started to peak through the window and Penelope started to stir in her hutch.


	4. Friends and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader finally gets to learn about Aziraphale's closest friend, she's intrigued and endeared immediately...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOO!! I am so sorry it's been so long since an update. I think the pandemic kicked everyone in the face. But here is chapter four. It may be a bit short, but I’m getting back into the swing of things. I promise I WILL finish this fic dammit.

_ Two Weeks Later _

It had not surpassed my notice that all our conversations up to this point had been solely focused on me. Aziraphale choicely avoided talking about his family or friends. Honestly, I was the only friend of his I knew, and seeing as I visited him several times a week it was surprising that I had never encountered anyone else that seemed remotely acquainted with him – save for the violet-eyed creep that had taken far too many liberties with my left hand. I had resolved to ask him about it today. After the deep dive we took into my memories a few weeks ago, I found it only fair.

And it was with this determination I strode into the shop. I had brought two scrumptious looking cinnamon rolls from a bakery down the block as a treat. I had a lot of work to do on my case study and he had been called into meetings uptown more than usual, so it seemed necessary. I was greeted by a small sigh and a shout from the back: “We’re closed for the day. Business will resume tomorrow. Please see yourself out!” With a giggle I retorted, “Alright, but then I would have to eat these cinnamon rolls all by myself!” Then there was a sound of recognition, the creak of a ladder, a crash, and a thud.

“Aziraphale! Are you alright?!” I shouted as I tossed the pastries and my bag on the counter, running towards the clatter.

“Oh dear, Y/N, I’m just fine. You surprised me is all. I didn’t realize the hour. Perhaps the mention of cinnamon rolls got me too excited to look down before attempting my descent.” He spoke with a small smile and a huff as I helped him out of a dusty heap of books. “Oh, blast it!” He sighed, analyzing his mess, “I had these all laid out in order and now I’ve gone and mixed them up. It’ll take me a dog’s age to get them shelved properly.”

“Well, maybe I could help, if you would accept assistance from the girl who led to your downfall in the first place.” I smiled, picking up a few volumes of Dostoyevsky that appeared to be first additions, but that was impossible.

“Oh love, I would never refuse anything from you,” He smiled, brushing dust from his waistcoat. “How about we clear up this mess, and then I’ll put on some tea and we can enjoy those cinnamon rolls?”

“I couldn’t have planned a better afternoon if I tried!”

And it was a wonderful afternoon. With his direction, I shelved the books where he liked. His system didn’t have a rhyme or reason I could make sense of, but if he was happy, I was happy. The work went must faster with one person on the ladder and one handing off the books. After that, we settled down on the couch in the back room with hot tea and the pastries. I was sure they’d be stale, but miraculously they still tasted oven-fresh. It was curious, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice.

We did our usual routine of bouncing between idle chatter and reading. Occasionally a remark on the text would spiral into a tangent on philosophy and the greater good. Finally, when my homework was finished, I got up the courage to say what I’d been thinking.

“Tell me about your family, Aziraphale.”

“Oh, goodness, why ever do you want to know about all that?” He asked. Seeming genuinely alarmed by the question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to poke a sore subject. It’s just… I have told you so much about myself and my childhood, and I feel like I barely know anything about you. The only person I know of any connection to you is Gabriel, and I hope to God he’s not the only other person in your life.”

He snickered at this and let out a resigned breath. “You’re right, Y/N, it isn’t fair of me to know every detail about your life and not share anything about myself. I find myself, um – estranged from the majority of my family. They don’t particularly agree with the way I live my life,” he began. He didn’t elaborate, but I took it to mean they were ultra-conservative, or something of the like. What other reason could they not want to be around Aziraphale? He was the most delightful person I’d ever met. “And God is good, Gabriel isn’t my only point of contact. I wouldn’t say I have many friends to speak of. I am more of a solitary observer myself. Mostly books and cocoa. But I do have one person I’d say is both my only family and best friend. His name is Crowley.”

“Crowley, huh? Tell me about him!” I was genuinely interested. Who could be the one being to capture this much of Aziraphale’s attention. And tell me he did. He talked about how long they’d known each other. The spats they’d been in. Their stark differences in music and fashion taste. He told me about Crowley’s unsavory colleagues. Occasionally he referred to him as a devil or wiley serpent. Things that would be reviling to call someone if it hadn’t been said with so much fondness. I could tell that, though they seemed polar opposites, Aziraphale cared for Crowley very much.

“He sounds wonderful Aziraphale, I hope I get to meet him some day. Him being your best friend, and all, I’m sure he’s fantastic.”

Aziraphale’s eyes glinted with recognition “Actually, I amend my previous statement. I would say he is _one of_ my best friends.” His smile dimpled his cheeks as he reached out to squeeze my hand. I took his warmly, happy to know he felt the same way I did. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, and work keeps him away most of the time, but maybe someday you two can meet.”

“I look forward to it,” I yawned, checking the clock. I t was nearly midnight and I had class the next morning. “Alright, my darling, I need to head home. Penelope is likely upset that I haven’t turned down the bed for her.”

He chuckled and rose to his feet following me to the door and holding out his arm, “Well then we best start walking, hm?” I took his arm again, ever the gentleman, he rarely let me walk home alone if it was dark out. This was one of the many things I loved about him.


	5. Vignettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two short vignettes about the reader and Aziraphale's antics as their friendship grows. Very short - but I wanted to get something out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been… a while. Sorry about that, but I’m two weeks from graduating, yay!!! This is a shorter chapter because I wanted to get an update out. But I have a bit more written so hopefully, the next chapter won’t take nearly as long. I hope you are all doing okay! Reach out if you need anything at all. <3

_ One Week Later _

“I studied for hours; I just don’t understand how it could have gone so poorly. I swear that professor has it out for me just because I don’t agree with his views of social inequality.” I huffed this through tears, staring at the 62% scrawled in mocking red sharpie across my exam booklet. I hadn’t done this poorly on a test in years, and even then, it was because I didn’t understand the subject. This was psychology, my bread and butter! I was positively miffed.

“Y/N, darling, I’m sure it is just because he doesn’t appreciate your genius the way I do. One test isn’t going to ruin your life. That’s not to say you can’t be upset, but you shouldn’t give the thought of Dr. So-and-so all of your energy. He clearly isn’t worth it,” Aziraphale cooed soothingly as he balanced a tray of tea and biscuits on his arm. “Now, why don’t you finish venting over treats and then we can get something more substantial for dinner, hm?”

“I’m inclined to say that you can’t solve all your problems with food, but those cookies smell good enough that I won’t argue.”

“Dearest, you have cried into baked goods on that couch cushion enough times to prove that statement isn’t true.”

“I – um. Okay. You’ve got me there.

_ Four Days Later _

Maybe you can’t solve all your problems with food, but food _and_ wine? That is a different story entirely! And three bottles seemed to do the trick.

“Okay, now step here on two and here on four, do you understand?”

“Aziraphale, I don’t get how the Gavotte is going to help me in any future endeavors.”

“Oh, shhhh shhhh shhh,” he said pressing an unsteady finger to my lips, “you never know when you need to GAVOTTE!” And with this exclamation, his lesson continued. I don’t know if I ever actually learned a thing. But I somehow woke up on my own couch without a hangover – so the evening must have been a success.


	6. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and the reader FINALLY meet! Yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes… it did take six chapters for our love interest to show up. I said slow burn and I meant SLOW. But our favorite ginger demon is here babyyyyy!

Today had been far more depressing than I had expected. Since American Thanksgiving wasn’t really a thing in London, or, you know, the UK in general, there wasn’t a long enough break to justify the transoceanic flight home for the holiday. I figured going about business as usual would make me forget, but it didn’t. I got so many lovely pictures from my grandparents of their dinner and decorations. My little cousins were there. I could imagine the smell of Aunt Patricia’s pumpkin pie. All of it got to be a bit much. I had a good cry in the shower and decided class today wasn’t worth it. Sitting in lecture halls full of people who didn’t recognize my existence did nothing to help my loneliness.

I didn’t particularly want to be alone in my apartment either, so, since it was technically business hours, popping over to Aziraphale’s early seemed like the best thing to cheer me up. Little did I know what that small choice would do to my life going forward. It was, perhaps, the best thing I ever did.

I walked as quickly as my heeled boots would carry me. In my mind, it was still a holiday, so I’d taken the time to dress up. I put on my favorite dress, it was a lovely shade of Y/F/C and took the time to do my hair and makeup. Having no morning classes gave me the luxury of doing whatever I wanted to do and it was so nice to not have to sprint out the door in leggings and a top-knot ten minutes late. I felt adorable. After leaving Penelope with the hutch open and a nice serving of food, the day was looking a bit brighter.

My attitude had improved significantly by the time I opened the A. Z. Fell & Co. doors and heard that lovely ring I’d become accustomed to. I didn’t announce myself as I thought he may be tending to customers, and I wanted to be respectful. He likely didn’t expect me and while he’d made clear I was always welcome, I’d never arrived before noon on a weekday.

I could hear voices coming from the back room and they seemed somewhat heated. Not fighting but discussing something very important. I hoped to God he wasn’t stuck back there with Gabriel. That snake made my skin crawl. I wasn’t an eavesdropper, but I strained to see if I could pick the voices apart. After trying for a few minutes, I concluded it was a person I didn’t know. Maybe another colleague or something. After all, for everyone else here it was just another Thursday.

I made myself comfortable on the window seat and pulled out the very fragile copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ Aziraphale had lent me. It made me nervous to hold, but he insisted I take it to read. I must have thumbed through six chapters by the time the back door finally opened. Aziraphale exited first and seemed surprised to see me, but on top of that concerned about something.

I couldn’t dwell too long on that thought though, because that’s when he emerged from behind my darling cherubic best friend. He was… sharp. All angles and black leather pants with – was that a face tattoo? This man was Aziraphale’s opposite in every way, and he was intriguing. Not to mention, handsome. He didn’t even have to take of the sunglasses for me to see that. I was transfixed by him almost immediately. I’m sure my staring would have become rude if Aziraphale hadn’t pulled me from my trance.

“Y/N, dear, you didn’t hear any of that loathsome business, did you?” He asked, seeming quite nervous. He relaxed though, when I told him I had been reading and hadn’t paid any attention. Maybe if I hadn’t been so distracted by the red-headed individual standing in the back I would’ve read into this more. Sensing my distraction, Aziraphale piped up. “Oh! Yes, of course, you two haven’t ever met before. Y/N, this is Crowley, Crowley, this is Y/N.”

Crowley, of course! He was the polar opposite of Aziraphale, just as I’d been told. It all made sense now. This was the mystery best friend I had heard so much about a few weeks ago. It must be one of the few times he came to visit, as he seemed to always be busy. I stood up and smoothed my skirt out before walking over to shake his hand. Even in heels he made me feel small. Maybe it was his height, maybe it was his presence. Either way, he was very intimidating. But if Aziraphale liked him so much, he must be worth getting to know. So I wasn’t going to let me nerves get in my way.

I stretched my hand out to the imposing man, hoping it wasn’t clammy or cold. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many great things.”

“Likewise,” he drawled out, taking my hand. “I suppose this is the human- er – young lady you mentioned, Az?”

“Oh! Um, yes! Y/N and I have become quite good friends. I’m glad you two have finally met!” Az? I had never heard anyone call him anything but Aziraphale. Of course, we exchanged the standard array of pet names for each other, but that was entirely new. It was interesting to see him around another person he was comfortable with.

“So, my dear, what brings you here so early in the day, and in such a lovely ensemble?”

“Oh, well, it seems silly now. But it’s a holiday back home and I was feeling down and lonely, so I thought I’d come here. I don’t mean to impose if the two of you had plans or something. I know you haven’t seen each other in a while. I can still make it to my next class if-“

“Nonsense!” Aziraphale cut in. “We can’t have you feeling down and lonesome by yourself! Especially when you look so beautiful, right Crowley?”

“Ngk. Erm – yeah. What he said. Nice dress and all.” He grabbed the back of his neck and stared at his shoes, which looked incredibly expensive.

“Oh,” I blushed a deep pink, “Uh, thank you for noticing, both of you. And thank you for being so kind. I just didn’t know what to do with myself and whenever that happens, I end up here.” I laughed at the last part. No matter what the day I always seemed to end up in the bookshop at some point. It’s like my soul was magnetized to it or something.

“Well, it’s settled then! We’ll have our own, um, what holiday is it?”

“American Thanksgiving, Az,” Crowley chimed.

“Ah! Yes! We’ll have our own Thanksgiving celebration right here. It’ll be tickety-boo.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two to your celebrate-y business and all. I’ve got work to do.”

“Oh, absolutely not!” Aziraphale protested. “If we’re celebrating, then you’re staying. The two of you are my closest friends and if we’re doing this we’ll do it right. Now, I want you to drive Y/N to the shop to get everything we’ll need for dinner. And drive _safely._ None of that speedy business and all. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Come on, doll. The Bentley is outside.”

I stood there in stunned silence for a moment. They had just dropped everything to cheer me up. Aziraphale, I could understand. He was always one for joy and good food. But Crowley? We’d just met. Sure, he didn’t seem rude, but this was an unexpected level of kindness. Despite his cool demeanor, I was starting to see why Aziraphale was so fond of him. Maybe today wasn’t going to be so bad after all.


End file.
